


This Fanfic, I Ain't Never Gonna Understand

by Azelto



Category: Julian Casablancas - Fandom
Genre: AU where kidney infections do not exist, Crossdressing, M/M, Omorashi, RPF, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:54:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25790167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azelto/pseuds/Azelto
Summary: Julian's husband enters him into a competition to see how long he can hold in his pee.
Relationships: Julian Casablancas/Original Male Character
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	This Fanfic, I Ain't Never Gonna Understand

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic that was based on a weird dream. This can also be seen as a sequel to 'My Bursting Bride'.

The Secret City was almost impossible to find if you didn’t know where to look. And that was how the people there wanted it to be. For nothing was off-limits there; people could dress and act however they wanted, unless the city’s safeword was used.

And this was where Zel took Julian after they had been married.

Because of how beautiful Julian had looked when wearing his wedding dress, Zel made him wear a Shiro Lolita dress. And now that he was married and therefore Zel’s property, he made him wear a matching white collar and leash.

Every morning, Zel would forbid Julian to have his morning pee. The bathroom had a lock on the outside that could only be opened with a code, and while Zel knew it, Julian did not. He had to brush his teeth and shave at the sink in the kitchen. Then Zel would put his leash on and take him for a walk around the city.

Being naturally beautiful, Julian would often get stares from passersby, a lot more than the other subs got. Zel would smirk at the obvious envy in their eyes. Some people would compliment Zel on how pretty and obedient his sub was, and asked his name. And when Zel replied, “Julian,” their eyes would widen and they would say it’s such a pretty name. On more than one occasion people had asked Zel if they could have a night alone with Julian. Some people had even offered him money. But each time Zel would shake his head, saying that Julian was his alone.

However, Julian was not always so well-behaved. One morning he woke up needing to use the bathroom much more than was usual. The day before had been hot and sunny, and so he had drank a lot of water. Despite this, Zel still refused to let him relieve himself, and took him out on their walk as usual.

The route of their morning walk often varied, and on this particular morning they walked past a fountain. As soon as Julian heard the gentle trickle of water, he gasped and his legs started to wobble. Then before he knew it was happening, his morning pee came out. It drenched his legs, staining his dress and stockings cadmium yellow. It felt strangely liberating to be relieving himself out in the open, but he knew that Zel would not be happy about this.

Zel slapped him. “Julian! You know you’re not supposed to go until I tell you to!”

Tears began to form in Julian’s eyes. The way his cheeks reddened and puffed up when he cried made him look utterly adorable, making Zel want to humiliate him even more. A few other people stood around the fountain, watching wide-eyed as this beautiful man was being chastised.

By now Julian’s stream had finished, and there was a dark puddle on the floor between his legs.

“I’m… sorry.” Julian’s voice was low and small. “I couldn’t… the fountain, it was… it was too much.”

Zel sighed and shook his head. “This will not do. You need to learn to control yourself. Come on.” Grabbing the leash, he led Julian in a different direction to the one from which they had come.

As they walked, Julian could feel other people’s eyes on him, staring at his ruined dress. His cheeks reddened and he kept his eyes focused on the ground.

When Zel stopped walking, Julian looked up. They were outside the dry cleaner’s shop. A sign in the window advertised same-day service. Zel led Julian through the door.

“Good morning,” Zel greeted the woman at the desk. “Unfortunately my husband has had an accident and his clothes need cleaning.”

“Goodness, what a mess.” She replied, looking Julian over. “Today’s been quiet, so we can have you sorted before midday.”

After Zel had paid, he stood at the side of the room while Julian stripped. Julian removed his shoes, stockings and panties, before taking off the dress. He handed the dress over the counter, then gave everything else to Zel, who had been carrying a plastic bag just in case something like this happened.

Now Julian was completely naked, and he sat down beside Zel in the waiting area. He shivered.

“Oh, are you cold?” Zel asked. “Here,” he reached into his other bag - the one that didn't contain the soiled clothes - and pulled out Julian’s leather jacket, “put this on.”

While they waited, a few other customers came in and nearly all of them stared at Julian, wearing nothing but his jacket and collar, his body on full display. More than one person’s eyes widened at the size of Julian’s dick. One young woman even approached them, asking Zel, “Can I touch him?”

Zel shook his head. “No touching my property.”

When the woman had left, Zel said, “It appears you have a lot of admirers, Julian. But of course, I anticipated this would happen, what with how uncommon you are. And now I’ve had an idea of how to make the whole city covet you.”

He pointed to the wall next to them. On it was a noticeboard displaying adverts for events happening in the city. Nearest to them was a yellow poster which read, “Desperation Contest: Only the Prettiest and Neediest Can Win.”

“Remember what I said about you being pretty with your need?” Zel said.

Over the next few weeks, Zel trained Julian to be as pretty and as needy as he could be. He taught him to breathe deeply, and divert his mind’s attention away from his need, no matter how urgent it was.

When they visited the fountain a second time, Julian began to shake again. The memory of wetting on their previous visit triggered his bladder and made him grab himself and double over.

“Take your hands away, that’s indecent!” Zel said.

For a moment Julian was convinced that if he did so, he would wet himself again. But then he remembered the breathing technique, and he imagined he was somewhere else, and that the need was not there. He took a deep breath, then removed his hands and stood up straight.

“Good boy.” Zel said.

Gradually Julian began to get better at holding when he was near the fountain. First Zel would lead him around in a circle, making sure that Julian’s desperation was not visible to the unknowing onlooker. Then he made Julian reach out and let the stream over water run over his hand. At first this made him shudder, but by the next day he was able to compose himself. After two weeks, Julian could stand barefoot in the water surrounding the fountain, and walk around in it beside Zel. The first time he did this without hesitation, the people nearby clapped.

It was not just water that Julian’s bladder needed to become accustomed to; pressure was also an issue. In the afternoons, when Julian was still holding, Zel would draw the blackout curtains in their bedroom and turn off the lights. He made Julian stand in the middle of the room, then he wrapped his arms around him from behind.

Julian felt a pair of leather gloves caressing his swollen abdomen. He gasped, then fought to control himself, fought to ignore the aching need to release.

“Oh, Julian…” Zel murmured in his ear. “You’d like to go, wouldn’t you?” The tips of his fingers danced over Julian’s bladder. “You’d like to just let it out, let it all come out, feel that gorgeous release after holding it in for so long, oh yes…”

Julian started to hyperventilate, his whole body shuddering. “Zel, I can’t, I - take me to the bathroom now, I need -”

“No. You will control yourself. Or I will spank you out on the balcony.”

Swallowing back a whimper, Julian tried again to breathe deeply, tried to mentally recite the lyrics to some of his bands’ songs as a form of distraction. He avoided ‘Meet Me in the Bathroom’ for obvious reasons.

Zel continued to train Julian in this way until almost nothing could make his pee come out unless he pushed it.

Then before they knew it, it was the day of the competition.

As usual, Julian woke up desperate, after having drank two full glasses of water before bed. After breakfast, Zel helped him into his dress. Because it was a special day, Zel tied white ribbons in Julian’s hair, and helped him put on some eyeliner. Then they drove to the arena.

The arena was much bigger than Julian had expected; there must have been room to seat several hundred people. He supposed it would be like performing at a concert, only this time he was showcasing his body rather than his voice.

While the audience entered through a large door at the front of the arena, the competitors had to go in through a smaller side entrance. Beyond this entrance was a corridor, where the other subs and their owners waited to be led into the open. Zel assessed the other subs and concluded that while they were pretty, Julian was no doubt the prettiest of the group.

A green light flashing over the doorway at the end of the corridor signalled them to proceed into the arena. Julian and Zel were right at the back of the line, and they watched as each couple went through the doorway to echoing applause from the audience.

When they were the only ones left in the corridor, Zel kissed the moles on Julian’s left cheek, for good luck. Then it was time for them to make their entrance.

As soon as the audience saw Julian, they went wild. Several people in the crowd screamed in hysterics and he received the loudest applause of any of the competitors.

Julian waved up at the crowd, not unused to being the focus of attention of this many people. Plus it was a distraction from the ache in his bladder.

Zel led Julian into the centre of the floor, where the physical examination would take place. The judges would be checking that Julian was holding, as well as assessing his prettiness.

"Distinguished guests," announced a short young woman who stood opposite them. "Welcome to the Desperation Contest! My name is Fitzroy and I will be your head judge. We have seen how pretty our subs are, but how long can they hold for? Let the contest begin!"

At the start of Round One Julian spent a long time waiting while the judges examined the other subs. Zel held his hand, giving his hair the occasional pet, until the judges approached him.

“Oh my…” Fitzroy said when she came to Julian. “This one is _very_ pretty. Lift up your skirt for me, I need to see how much you’re holding.”

Zel lifted up Julian’s skirt so that she could see the red, swollen bulge above his stomach. Fitzroy placed her hand on the bulge. “Does it hurt?”

“It’s painful,” Julian said, “but I have to ignore the pain and desperation and be pretty with my need.”

“Perfect.” She smiled.

The judges then asked to see Julian’s thighs. Julian wore white stockings that came up to just above his knees, and Zel knew that the way Julian’s thighs bulged slightly over the edge of the stockings would earn him extra points. Zel lifted Julian’s skirt again, then took Julian’s right thigh in his hand and made him turn it so the judges could see the soft skin of his inner thigh.

“Can you lift your leg up?” Neo, the second judge, asked.

“He can.” Zel said.

Julian positioned himself in the way Zel had taught him, then pointed his toes. He lifted his right leg as high as his waistline and back down again three times. Then he repeated the movement with his left leg. Each time he did this, his bladder protested. It sent waves of desperation through his body, but he ignored all of them. He kept his posture straight and his muscles still. Not a single drop of pee left his bladder, and he showed no hint of the pain he was in.

“Could you spread your legs apart for me, please?” Asked Mars, the third judge.

As he did so, his bladder practically screamed at him to go. A few weeks ago, doing something like this would have made his thighs tremble and drips start to stain his panties. But today his panties were dry, and his legs stayed apart.

Mars lifted the lid of a medium-sized black box that was a few feet in front of Julian. Reaching inside, they brought out a litter tray. They placed it in the space between Julian’s legs.

Julian’s bladder begged him to give into the temptation. It didn’t matter if he lost the contest, it reasoned, because he needed to go _now_ and here was a place he could go in that wouldn’t make a mess.

But he restrained himself. He knew Zel would punish him if he lost in the first round. He held the pee in and the litter box remained unused.

“Round one is now over!” Called Fitzroy. Further along the line, one of the other subs had wet themselves, and so they were out of the competition. At least Julian wasn’t going to come last now.

For the second challenge, the competitors were led to a different section of the arena. Here there was a line of hot tubs. Fitzroy told the subs to strip.

Undressing himself in front of so many people was an interesting experience. The crowd cheered and whistled at him as he took off the dress, and even more so when his bladder bulge was revealed. This only made him more determined to hold it in, for he did not want to imagine the shame he would feel if he wet himself naked in front of an audience.

Zel led him by hand up the steps of the hot tub, and then let go as he descended into the warm water. Julian did so without hesitation, knowing that if he faltered, he would lose points.

The water soothed and relaxed his muscles, and made the idea of letting go ever more tempting. Here it would be very easy to go; all he had to do was push a little bit… but no, he would not. He would not even hold himself with his hands; he focused his attention away from the need. He looked ahead and smiled at the audience, noticing the details of their hair, their clothes. Waves of need pulsed through him, the pee trying to fight its way out, but he refused to let it out. Refused to show any evidence of how needy he was.

Then the water around him started to bubble. It teased his bladder even more, made it beg and beg, and yet he would not give in. He rested his hands flat on the water, looking at the audience, being pretty for them. There was a chance that they wouldn’t see if he squeezed his thighs together under the water, but he didn’t.

Zel had once said to him, “The world’s most beautiful man should never show others he is in pain.” Julian knew he was beautiful, and to Zel his need was beautiful too. But to others, the true extent of his desperation should be a mystery, a secret that only Zel knew about.

Fitzroy then announced the end of Round Two. Julian climbed out of the hot tub, where Zel dried him off with a towel and helped him back into his clothes. Another two subs had wet themselves in the hot tub, leaving only eight besides Julian. How great were his chances of winning? The scores would not be revealed until after Round Three.

Round three was to be the most difficult. Julian was led into a cubicle with three walls and no ceiling, so that the audience could see him. The cubicle was furnished exactly like a bathroom, complete with a functioning toilet. In front of the toilet was a television screen. Even before Fitzroy explained this round, Julian already knew what was going to happen.

Zel guided him to the toilet, as if it were his regular bathroom break. In fact, this was too much like his regular bathroom break, even with the screen and the audience. It put all sorts of tempting thoughts into his head, and into his bladder, and it was an effort to control himself while still remaining pretty. He noticed that inside the toilet bowl was a waterproof microphone. So if he let out even the slightest drop, everyone in the arena would hear it.

Normally Julian used the toilet standing up, but to make the round fair, this time he had to sit down. He reached under his skirt and pulled down his panties, then sat on the toilet seat. Somehow, pretending he was in a television interview about his music was enough to distract his thoughts from the pain of his begging bladder.

Then the screen turned on. It showed a video of a waterfall, then one of a running tap, then raindrops forming a puddle.

Julian’s dick began to twitch. And he couldn’t stop it. Luckily, his skirt covered it so nobody would notice.

Through an extreme effort of will, he held on through all of the temptations. Other than his twitching dick, he kept still.

But his bladder became manic, sending waves of desperation non-stop. For he was so close to relief; he was literally _sitting_ on it, being encouraged to relieve himself by the videos, and he still would not. If his bladder could talk, it would be screaming, for he was torturing it. He was forcing every single drop to stay inside, and now he was in agony, urgent desperation mixed with pain.

If he had been at this stage in his own home, he would be crying and shaking and being pathetic enough for Zel to slap him and tell him to get over it. He knew what Zel would say, “People feel pain all the time, much worse than what you’re feeling now. You will hold it and you will get over it.”

He held it in. Despite everything, he held it in. He composed himself. He was pretty, pretty with his need.

And with that, the final round was over.

Julian stood up and pulled his panties back on while the judges talked amongst themselves.

Then Fitzroy announced, “I think we have a winner. Distinguished guests, the winner of the contest, the prettiest and most desperate, is none other than Julian Casablancas!”

Thunderous applause filled the arena. Zel grabbed Julian’s leash and led him to where the judges stood.

But before they were even half way there, Julian’s bladder started to regain control over him.

“Fuck!” He doubled over, holding himself, overcome by violent shudders, eyes filling with tears. He no longer felt ashamed to be so needy in public; he needed release and he needed it _now_.

Recognising that Julian was at his limit, Zel looked around. A few feet away was one of the litter trays from Round One. He grabbed it and thrust it in front of Julian’s feet.

There was no time to take his panties off. Julian dropped onto all fours over the litter tray, the piss practically exploding out of him and soaking through his dress. He couldn’t help but moan; he had been waiting all day for this pleasure, this release, and after spending what seemed an eternity being elegant and refined, now all his control was gone. The warmth, the texture, the sound it made, if any feeling was comparable to the perfect note in a song, it was this. He closed his eyes, feeling tears of relief fall down his cheeks.

The audience couldn’t have cheered any louder; what a sight it was, to see this gorgeous man losing control over himself, ruining himself in the most indecent of ways. Now when any of them saw him in public after today, they would know what a mess he could become.

And then finally, _finally_ the stream was done and at long last, he was empty. He collapsed onto the floor beside the litter tray.

He felt a hand stroking his hair. “Julian?” It was Zel’s voice. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah…” he breathed, “I just… fuck, that was good.”

When they returned home that afternoon, Zel ran Julian a bath, saying he wanted to spoil him as a reward for winning the competition.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He wrapped his arms around Julian from behind as they stood waiting for the bath to fill up. “You know that, don’t you?”

“Of course.” Julian leaned back into him. “And I’m glad to be worthy of your love.”

"You're more than worthy," Zel stroked the moles on Julian's cheek. "You're a work of art."

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Bonus joke that I made up: Did you hear about the person who died of a broken heart because they could never date Julian Casablancas? The coroner said the cause of death was a stroke


End file.
